Random One-Shots - Harry Potter Edition
by Quiet Leaf
Summary: Small one-shots, long one-shots, all squashed together in single chapters! All are humorous, so please check them out! Rated T just in case. Co-authored with Loopy Leefy.
1. Chapter 1

**Me and leefpool are co-writing Random One-Shots- Harry Potter Edition! We will be taking turns adding segments to each chapter until we think the word count is all right. This idea came to life when we were talking randomly about Harry Potter.**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter. If we did, we would have died from having to do public speaking.**

* * *

_**When the Muggles Noticed. . .**_

The Dursley family. . . well, you know all about them if you're reading this don't you? Harry's relatives, don't like magic, consider themselves normal, yada yada yada.

Well, back to the point.

It was just a normal evening, September first. That was, until they sat down to watch the news.

". . .people were literally disappearing and appearing in King's Cross Station this morning. While the people who disappeared have mainly been doing it through the wall between platforms nine and ten, and carrying strangely large trunks which often had animals such as owls, cats and toads on them, they have also disappeared in seemingly random places.

"The people who have appeared have also done it in seemingly random places, _and_ they have also done it by appearing from the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Whether this is some kind of advanced and unknown projection technology, or just a joke pulled by teenagers, is yet to be confirmed. Although detectives have been on the scene and think it may be a combination of both, seeing as most of the population which was disappearing were between the ages of eleven and eighteen.

"One part which suggests it being projections, is that the detectives have not been able to find a way to through the barrier in the same way as the people who went through this morning. Detectives and police officers will look further into this, but for now, over to Jim for the weather!"

All the Dursleys could do was stare.

_Nearly a Year Later_

"Breaking news! Some of you may not remember, but one school year ago, on September first, we reported on a case of what was most likely a combination of immature teenage stunts and advanced projection technology; people disappearing and appearing in King's Cross Station! Today, the same has happened, and we have had an unbelievable amount of people questioning on it, specifically people who remember the report from last year. For those of you who don't, we will replay a recording now to either jog or add to your memories."

This time, the Dursleys could do something. They glared at Harry.

* * *

_**Invisibility Marquee**_

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,

Lily and James Potter lost their lives.

Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard

ever to have survived the Killing Curse.

This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left

in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters

and as a reminder of the violence

that tore apart their family.

And all around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left messages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things.

DIE, POTTER!- Bellatrix Lestrange.

If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!

At this one, Harry spun around.

"_But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee-" -Hermione, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

He looked, but there was no one there. So he reached out a hand, and felt silky fabric, which he grabbed, and the Invisibility Marquee slid off the crowd of unsuspecting wizards…

Harry let out a muffled yell and jumped backwards, knocking Hermione over in the process. "Wha- How-?"

The wizard in front stretched. "Ah, it's been years since I've been able to stretch my limbs!" He seemed to notice Harry for the first time. "Ah, there you are dear boy, it seems you have fallen over." He held out a hand to help him up, but Harry didn't take it. "When did you lot get here?"

The man let loose a jolly laugh. "_When?_ We've always been behind you! When you were a baby in your crib, when you when getting that Philosophers Stone- ALWAYS. Even when you were swimming in the lake to retrieve that red haired young man. His hair is even redder than Lily's, I must say."

* * *

_**Halloween Parties**_

Tomorrow, it was Hallow's Eve. Snape had special plans that day. . . special plans for his House. And he still hadn't sorted it out.

He sat in his dungeon office, hand on his forehead, trying to sort through all of the things on his desk. There wasn't enough! Why must Slytherin House be so large? Not that he was complaining, but he didn't want to spend all his money on this. Maybe he could ask some other teachers to lend him a few Galleons.

Just then, the door opened, and a certain, messy haired boy stepped in. "I'm here for detent-" then the boy saw what was on Snape's desk.

_Oh, how could I forget that Potter boy was coming tonight?*_ Snape quickly stood. "Potter. . . yes. I am afraid the detention is cancelled tonight. Leave at once, and if you tell anything you saw here to _anyone_, I can assure you, you will be facing a year's worth of detention sorting through the dirtiest of the Hogwarts laundry."

The boy, too frightened by how Snape appeared at the moment, left at once. The greasy-haired man slumped back in his chair. No matter the fact of how horrific it was, he was sure the threat had gone straight through the boy's head. He would no doubt be telling the know-it-all and the freakishly-tall-for-his-age red-head. And there was no possible way the rest of the school wouldn't hear about it after that.

_Halloween_

Snape sat in his place in between the Headmaster and the witch who always had a bit of dirt on her hands. He was enjoying some nice chicken, and, though no one noticed it, sneaking sweets into his robe pockets. Well, he was enjoying himself up until the point where Dumbledore turned to him and asked _the_ question.

"Oh, Severus, I've been meaning to ask you; when are you giving your gifts to your House?"

Snape paled. "How did you know about that?!" he snapped.

There was a twinkle in the old man's eyes. Well, there always was, but it seemed to grow brighter now. "Isn't it obvious? I stole Alastor's eye."

Somewhere far away, Moody was staring (with his only eye) at a note on his bedside table

While Snape was preoccupied with Dumbledore, Harry turned and poked Ron and Hermione.

"Wha?" Was Ron's reply through a mouthful of food, to which Hermione gave an exasperated look. She then turned to Harry.

"What is it, Harry?"

"You know last night, when my detention was cancelled?" They both nodded. "Well, when I went in there, Snape was sitting at his desk. And you know what was on it?" His two friends shook their heads impatiently. "_Sweets_! Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. . . there was even Acid Pops!"

Ron choked on his food, and Hermione had to pat him hard on his back to make it stop.

"W-_what_?" He managed.

"Sweets! _And_ a large banner, too! It said, '_Slytherin_ _Private_ _Halloween Party. Sweets for Everyone Clad in Green._'" Ron managed to choke on his new mouthful of food at that.

Back at the staff table, Dumbledore seemed to remember why he had started a conversation with Snape, and he held out his hand. "Well, since you haven't given those sweets, would you mind adding these to their number? I don't think enough wizards know of Muggle sweets." And of course, his hand was full of lemon drops.

* * *

_**A Monument to the Potters, by Rita Skeeter**_

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,

Lily and James Potter tragically lost their red and black haired lives.

Their daughter, Harriet, remains the only witch

ever to have been killed by the Living Curse.

This house, invisible to Magic Folk, has been left

in its perfect state as a monument to the Potters

and as a reminder of the goodness

that tore apart their book club.

* * *

_**First Year List: Type-os**_

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

DOGSHORTS SCHOOL loves WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will inquire why they need:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (highlight pink)

2\. One plain pointed hat (magenta) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (Muggle type or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (mint green, bright red fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry lame rags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of the following:

_The Standard Book of Kills (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Myster_y by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Tragedy_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Confusion_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Hurts and Uncles_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Laughs and Notions_ by The Weasley Twins

_Fantastic Grease and Where to Hide it_ by Severus Snape

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Dejection_ by Quirrell Fake Trembles

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size, blue)

1 set glass or tear drop vials

1 landscape

1 set brass whales

Students may also bring a towel OR a hat OR a code

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN LEMON DROPS

Harry blinked down at the list. "Err, Hagrid, are you sure it's supposed to be like this?"

"Like wha'?"

Harry showed him the list.

"Tha' can' be righ'. . ."

Far away, a woman named Minerva McGonagall was sipping her tea when she decided to review the first year list. Upon reading it, her eyes grew wider and wider, until she got to the book list. Then she spat out her tea, and marched to the Headmaster's office.

"ALBUS!"

The old man looked up from where he was smiling at a letter written in the neatest handwriting one could imagine a letter to be when it appeared to be all in capitals. The writer of the letter must have been very angry. "Yes, Minerva?"

"What is this?" she shoved the list at the man's face.

"It is the first year list, of course! Although, it seems to have been written while the person who wrote it was half asleep. But for now, I must send a reply to Mister Malfoy."

_At Malfoy Manor, several days previous_

Draco hid his eagerness to rip the envelope open, and simply tore away the wax seal. Upon taking out the letter and reading the list, however, his nonchalant expression changed to one of shock, horror, and fury.

When they saw the look on their son's face, the two parents frowned. "What is it, Draco?" Wordlessly, the boy handed the list to his parents, who each read it in turn. Lucius stared down with disgust written all over his face.

"It appears Hogwarts is now more corrupt than we thought. I will express my fury through a letter to their senile Headmaster." And with that, he swept out of the room.

* * *

_**House Elf Rights**_

"You all right then?" Hermione whispered to Harry.

"No, he's still stuck in the bog," said Ron.

"Oh, very funny . . . It's horrible, isn't it?" she said to Harry, who was staring up at the statue. "Have you seen what they're sitting on?"

It was then that Harry noticed what the chairs were made of. House Elves. All woven together in painful looking positions, with ugly little grins on their faces.

He turned to look at Hermione, and was startled by her expression. Pure anger. And she was holding up a sign that loudly proclaimed "CAMPAIGN FOR HOUSE ELF RIGHTS, THEY DESERVE TO BE FREE."

Harry face-palmed. "Hermione, can you stop with the Spew business?"

"Not Spew, Harry, S.P.E.W.! The House Elves deserve their freedom!" She grabbed the arm of a passing Ministry worker. "Excuse me, do you want to join my Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare? They deserve freedom! Wages and sick leave at least!"

"Um..."

They had only to look at the wizard a little longer before realizing that it was Arthur Weasley.

"M-Mister Weasley!"

He squinted. "Ah, Hermione- Wait, what are you doing here? Out! GET OUT! BEFORE THEY FIND YOU!

Every head in the Atrium turned to look to look at them.

"Oops."

* * *

_**Just as Sane**_

"Don't worry, I can see them too. You're just as sane as I am."

After this incident, Harry Potter went insane from believing that he was.

* * *

***I don't think Harry had detention the night before Halloween, but it was necessary for that little one-shot. **

**Leafdapple: There you have it! Funny? Hilarious? Leave a comment! **

**leefpool: Guess which ones I wrote? I mean really, guess! If you can guess which ones are the ones I wrote and which are Leafy's, you can request a segment about a certain thing! Do it through PM (and we will tell you if you got it right through PM, too), though. We don't want people who look at reviews to get spoilers. If you're a guest, though, you don't have to do it through PM. Maybe try being vague but descriptive at the same time. . . ? Ah, tell it however you want. And tell us which you thought was funniest. I vote **_**First Year Type-os**_**! XD It wash sho funny. Remember to review. I eat reviews, you know. They're good for the author segment of my brain.**

**Both of us: FLAMES WILL BE USED TO ROAST UMBRIDGE**

**-Leafdapple3**

**~leefpool**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Love is a Powerful Thing**_

Viktor Krum gazed dreamily at Hermione Granger, awaiting her reply to what he had just told her.

"You'll . . . you'll do anything for me?" She repeated slowly.

Viktor nodded vigorously.

Hermione smiled, a rather triumphant look coming into her eyes which Viktor paid no attention to. "Alright then! Wait for me here, I need to go get something," and with that, she sprinted off in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

Viktor waited for a few minutes, until the sound of Hermione's footsteps approached once again, along with a rattling sound. Another few moments, and Hermione was back, panting, holding a box of badges which said 'S.P.E.W.' on them, and a notebook, quill, and ink.

"So, if you'll do _anything _for me, then you will join my Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, right?" Viktor nodded dreamily. "Alright, then!" She scribbled something into the notebook. "Now, I've also got another thing I want you to do. . ." She then leaned in and whispered something into his ear. He nodded, and set off to do his job.

_Two days later_

By then, of course, Viktor had convinced every fan of his who attended or was visiting Hogwarts to join S.P.E.W. That was his assignment, after all; use his famous self to make everyone he could to join. He even got Karkaroff to do it by threatening not to attend Durmstrang anymore.

At the moment, every member of 'spew,' as some people called it, was gathered in the Great Hall.

"Alright, everyone!" Hermione announced from in front of the staff table, "Today, we are going down to the kitchen and giving all the house elves clothes, giving them freedom! So, gather some of your cloaks or socks or something from your trunk, and we'll be going there in groups of five! Once you have established your groups, wait in an organized line by the kitchens, and if you don't know the way, just follow the people who do. Go now! Do what you are supposed to do, for the house elves!"

Now, everyone did as they were told, but really they were just following Viktor's lead.

Hermione looked down upon the Hall with satisfaction. She hadn't known so many people would be willing to contribute to the cause. The house elves were going to be free! What a glorious day! She ought to make a holiday for it- Independence Day for English House Elves! That's what she would call it. And the day she had officially established S.P.E.W. yesterday by putting the whole Ministry of Magic under the Imperius curse (_no, the Imperius_ cure! she reminded herself) would be known as S.P.E.W. Day! It was all so perfect!

By midnight, all the house elves in Hogwarts had been tearfully dismissed. The next morning, when they had finally realized that no food would arrive in the Great Hall how it normally did, Hagrid volunteered as chef. Of course, all of their teeth fell out from trying to eat rock cakes, and they all had to drink Skele-gro, which Madam Pomfrey had to buy more of. There wasn't nearly enough to go around in the entire school.

So, they all suffered being without house elves. However, Hermione never relented to let the elves come back, and Hogwarts was void of them until the day she died. That day was special to the house elves, all the house elves; and only for all the house elves because when Hermione wasn't at Hogwarts, she was running around with her Viktor Krum-Induced S.P.E.W. followers, two Invisibility Cloaks (one Harry's and the other stolen from the Moody imposter) setting all the house elves they could free.

* * *

_**The Cool Side of the Pillow -Kareha**_

Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him—

_Happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, Harry_, he told himself. He searched his mind frantically, before something came to mind. _Of course!_ "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The dementor-boggart shied away from the silvery stag that erupted from the boy wizard's wand, then retreated back into the box, which Lupin slammed close. Said wizard turned to face Harry. "That was some impressive magic! If you don't mind me asking, what did you think of?"

"The cool side of the pillow."

* * *

_**Nothing is EVER as it Seems**_

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames.

"Here I come," he said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but he couldn't feel them—for a moment he could see nothing but the dark fire—then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there—but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.

It was Quirrell.

"_You!_" gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled brightly. "Me," he said happily. "I wondered if you got my invitation! I must have been waiting for twenty minutes."

"But I thought—Snape—" then he stopped, thinking about what Quirrell had just said. "W-wait . . . what invitation?"

Quirrell's face fell. "Oh. So you didn't get it . . . oh well," he smiled again. "After all, you still arrived!"

"Arrived for what?" Harry was now completely bewildered.

"Why, my tea party of course!"

It was only then that Harry noticed that Quirrell was wearing a pink apron (it looked suspiciously like one of Aunt Petunia's), and the chamber they were in was decorated with flowers of all different colors (again, suspiciously like the ones in Aunt Petunia's garden). There was also a coffee table and two couches, the table covered in a lacy purple table cloth, with a shining white tea-set, and the couches a light sky blue. There was a mirror behind Quirrel which looked like the Mirror of Erised, but it was hard to tell through all the white lace and flowers which adorned it.

"But—but I thought you wanted the Stone!"

Quirrel frowned. "What stone?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone!"

"What? I never knew the Stone was down here! Professor Dumbledore just mentioned this place around the beginning of the year, and I thought it sounded like a good place for a tea party. I really had no idea what all those obstacles were for, but I guess I do now. Well, anyway; come, why don't we sit down and have some of the tea I prepared?"

Harry just stared, looking utterly dumbfounded.

Quirrel, realizing Harry wasn't going anywhere at the moment, quickly walked forward and took a hold of his shoulders, after which walking him over to one of the couches.

He served the tea, and Harry seemed to come out of his stupor. "But—Professor—" then he came to a realization. "Why aren't you stuttering?"

The man smiled and laughed. "Well, I realized that no one would want to have tea with me if I were a stuttering buffoon. So I decided to stop doing it. It was quite easy, really."

"Oh . . . okay then."

Quirrell nodded enthusiastically. "By the way, where are your friends? I sent them invitations too, you know."

"Well, Ron had to sacrifice himself to get past the giant chess set. But don't worry," he added quickly, catching sight of the horrified look on Quirrell's face, "he wasn't killed; just knocked out."

Quirrel breathed a sigh of relief, and took a sip of tea. "Good, good. Well then, where is Miss Granger?"

"She had to go back when we got to the last chamber, and get Ron to the hospital wing," he decided to leave out the part about Hermione sending a letter to Dumbledore.

"Ah, well, I'm glad she wasn't hurt."

Harry nodded, and sipped a bit of the rather delicious tea in his cup—speaking of which, he didn't remember it ever coming into his hand. And how had the tea gotten there, anyway? "Professor, there's just one other question I have . . . where did you get this tea? Did you bring it all the way down here while getting through the obstacles, or. . . ?"

Quirrel gave an airy laugh. "No, no. I made it in a kettle over there," he gestured to a cheery fireplace Harry hadn't noticed which was in the wall behind him. He wasn't surprised that it was lined with blue tulips.

"Oh . . . does it's chimney go all the way through the castle or something?"

"No. It doesn't have a chimney," Quirrel stated cheerfully.

It was then that Harry noticed all the smoke in the chamber, and began to feel a bit woozy. He coughed into his hand. "But—" he coughed again. "Do-doesn't that m-mean—" another cough.

"Yes! The smoke will keep coming, probably until we faint." He coughed and seemed to think about it for a moment. "I suppose I see how that could be a problem. . . ." and with that, he fell back on the couch, unconscious, spilling tea down his front.

Coughing, Harry set his tea down on the table. _Looks like I'll have to try and make it out of he_— he then fell and joined Quirrell in his faint, the last thing he heard being the door thrown open.

_Later, in the hospital wing_

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry stared at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It wasn't Quirrell! He didn't even know! Sir, quick—"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind on the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrel does not have the Stone."

"I know! It must have really been—"

"Harry, please relax or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

At this point, Harry decided to speak before Dumbledore could interrupt him again. "Sir," he said in a whisper, "Quirrell wasn't after the Stone. He was actually hosting a tea party."

Dumbledore looked very surprised at this. "What?"

"_He was hosting a tea party_! So it must have really been Snape!"

"_What?_"

* * *

_**Sirius Black's Heritage**_

The old woman's screeches died and an echoing silence fell.

Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Harry's godfather, Sirius, turned to face him.

"Hello, Harry," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."

"Your—?"

"My dear old mum, yeah," said Sirius. "Didn't you know? I'm half painting."

"But how—"

He was interrupted by Sirius waving his hands mystically and saying, in a just as mystical voice, "Magic!"

* * *

_**What Quirrell Sees in the Mirror**_

Quirrell stared into the mirror, which he had decorated with lace and flowers. For some reason, it showed him happily having a giant tea party with everyone at Hogwarts, even though that wasn't what he was actually doing. He would love to be doing that, though. . . .

_Hmm . . . maybe it shows the future. I hope so._ Quirrell heard the door open, accompanied by a gasp of, "_You!_" _Oh, Harry's here! Time for tea!_

* * *

_**Dragged**_

Harry had been waiting for Sirius's letter for several days now, and he'd finally had enough of waiting.

Striding to a window, he flung it open, thrust his wand out and shouted, "Accio letter!"

The poor owl was dragged all the way to Gryffindor tower.

* * *

_**I Know What You're Thinking**_

Harry stared at Dumbledore from his side of the desk, waiting for him to speak.

The headmaster sighed. "Harry, I know what you're thinking."

Harry gave him an odd look. "Err. . . ."

"No, I really know what you're thinking. But if you break the eye-contact, I won't."

Harry immediately looked down at his lap. Dumbledore smiled. "Now you're thinking, 'he doesn't know what I'm thinking anymore,' aren't you?"

* * *

_**Floo Season**_

Harry was having a perfectly normal day staying at the Weasley's. He was currently in the sitting room, reading _Quidditch Through the Ages _for the third time. Hermione was finishing off her summer homework near the fireplace, and Ron was arguing with Fred and George over whether or not the Chudley Cannons or the Montrose Magpies were the better Quidditch team.

He looked up when Mr. Weasley entered. "Oh, hello, Mr. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley nodded, stopping in front of the fireplace. "Hello, Harry. I was just going to—" however, before he could finish his sentence, there was a flash of green fire, and he was sucked into the fireplace. The only things left behind were his glasses and a shoe, giving off a somewhat ominous feeling.

Hermione uttered a small shriek, pulling further away from the fireplace with a fearful look on her face. Ron and the twins looked up from their argument and noticed the shoe and the glasses. For some reason, this caused Gred and Forge to start laughing and Ron to snort.

A moment later, Mrs. Weasley came rushing into the room, eyes on Hermione. "What is it, dear? Did something happen?" Hermione wordlessly pointed to the two objects on the floor. Mrs. Weasley relaxed. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, dear. Arthur's just been caught in Floo Season."

Hermione's expression melted into one of confusion. "Flu season?"

"Floo Season. You see, over the summer, certain wizards and witches will be caught in spontaneous Floo travel while near their fireplaces."

Hermione edged further from the fireplace at this, completely forgetting her homework.

Harry just shrugged and looked back at his book.

* * *

_**Do Not Touch -Kareha**_

"And whatever you do, Harry," Dumbledore said as he left the room after Fudge, "do not open the cupboard with the light shining out of it or mess with the very tempting Pensieve inside of it."

Harry stared. "Er . . . okay?"

As Dumbledore finally exited the room, Harry could have sworn the twinkle in his eye had grown even brighter.

Turning around when the door closed, Harry searched for the cupboard with the light shining out of it. Upon finding what he was searching for, he dragged out the Pensieve, placed it on the desk, and began swirling the contents with one hand.

After giving it a bit of thought, he stuck his head in as well, and was sucked inside of the bowl.

Blinking to adjust to the sudden change of lighting, Harry looked around the room and noticed Dumbledore standing in front of him. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I started messing with the Pensieve!"

He smiled. "Not to worry, dear boy, this is only a memory. I used reverse psychology on you so that you would look in the pensieve and see this. Anyway, Lemon Drop? You can take one from the tray on my desk once you get out of here.

"Now, down to business. The First Task is Dragons, you can defeat yours and grab the egg using your Firebolt and a Summoning Charm. The Second Task, the song in the egg means that you have one hour to rescue Ronald from the Black Lake. Use Gillyweed to breath underwater, and don't worry about your friend, the Merfolk will take care of him. If you want to hear the song in detail, just use a bathtub to go underwater and open the egg. The words will become clear.

"The Third Task you have to get through a maze, and whoever touches the Triwizard Cup first wins. Just stick to the right wall and all you will encounter is a Boggart, a golden mist which will make the world turn upside-down, and a Sphinx. Remember, the incantation is 'Riddikulus', walk straight through the mist and you will be fine, and the answer to the riddle is spider. When you touch the Cup you will be brought to a graveyard and unwillingly help Voldemort return to life. After that, please bring back Cedric Diggory's body by touching the Cup again and offer your prize money to his family. They'll refuse your offer, of course, but it will boost your reputation in the months to come, when everyone will think you're a lying, attention seeking git. I should be getting back about now, see you then! Don't forget to take a Lemon Drop!"

And with that, he was brought back to the real world.

"Here's a Lemon Drop, Harry," said the current Dumbledore.

* * *

_**Swear Words -Kareha**_

_(Yay! Mini-prologue!)_

Fudge hammered on the table with his mallet. "All in favor?" Almost the entire Wizengamot raised their hands. "The verdict has been decided! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name is officially declared the most vulgar swear word in the Wizarding World!"

_(End of mini-prologue.)_

Harry woke to the sound of his alarm clock beeping. It was early morning, and he was up at this hour to receive his newspaper. He only glanced at the front page, he was beginning to think that nothing was going to happen, though he internally slapped himself for being lulled into a false sense of security.

But then he did a double take, the headline jumping out at him:

'The True Name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is Declared a Swear Word!'

For a moment he just stood, there, gaping like a fish, before he began to read.

_On the evening of June 30th, the Wizengamot gathered_

_to discuss the transformation of You-Know-Who's name._

_In the event of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter's declaration_

_of the life of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,_

_many individuals informed the Ministry of Magic that_

_it would be prudent to consider declaring his name a vulgar word._

_With the agreement of the majority, The Name was officially declared_

_the most vulgar word in the Wizarding World that could escape a person's_

_mouth._

It wasn't until Aunt Petunia called for him to get up that he stopped staring at the article.

_An undetermined period of time later . . ._

Harry had decided a while ago that the declaration of the Dark Lord's name being a swear word had been a big joke, and had completely forgotten about it.

However, due to a certain incident, he remembered.

Harry glared at them. "_Well?" _he demanded, looking from one to the other.

"Er," said Ron. "Well what?"

"_Voldemort!"_ Harry said furiously, and both Ron and Hermione winced. "Language, Harry!" the latter reprimanded. "You can't just go around saying his name like that, little children don't need to hear such a vulgar word!"

Harry stared. "What on earth or you going on about?"

"You didn't know?!" Ron exclaimed. "You-Know-Who's name was declared a swear word! A really bad one, at that! Don't let Mum hear you say it."

"Now that you mention it . . . I do remember seeing it on the front page of the Daily Prophet about a month back. . . ."

Ron nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I was really surprised. Hermione wasn't, for some reason."

The mentioned person rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ronald, you couldn't be more oblivious if you saw a hole in the ground and stuck your head in it. His name is taboo enough already, it was like saying a bad swear word before, but now that it actually is one it's even worse."

The door opened a fraction and Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in. "The meeting's over, you can come down for dinner now. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry."

"We'll be right down," Hermione stated.

_(Yay! Mini-epilogue!)_

Voldemort stared at the front page, his lip curling in disgust.

"Explain this, Lucius," he sneered.

"Well, it would seem that people fear to speak your name even more than before, but for different reasons."

_(End mini-epilogue.)_

* * *

_**Being Followed -Kareha**_

Hiding around the corner from the living room, Harry listened intently to the news.

Nothing, as usual. Just an update on the drought, among other things. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall and left the house. Walking down the sidewalk, however, he noticed footsteps behind him. How odd. There was nothing there.

After a while, he heard footsteps again, but there was nothing there. He immediately turned around and walked back home, then proceeded to write a letter to Sirius and send it off.

_Later at 12 Grimmauld Place. . . ._

Hedwig flew in the window to Sirius's bedroom. Surprised, he took her letter, fed her a dead rat that was originally for Buckbeak, and watched her fly off, before opening the note.

_Sirius,_

_I'm being followed by someone, and I think they want to kill me. Please help._

_Harry_

Sirius' first reaction was panic. He ran downstairs and rushed into the kitchen. "Harry's being followed by a Death Eater!"

There was a collective gasp of horror from the gathered Order members.

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore. "It's just one of the members of the Order, I have them following Mr. Potter for protection."

Sirius face started smoldering as he grasped the old man by the front of his robes. "Why didn't you tell me?" he said venomously.

"I'm sorry, I was under the influence of the Lemon Drops and I forgot."

* * *

_**Three Brothers**_

_There were once three brothers who were unraveling a long, lonely road at noon. In time, the brothers reached a river too shallow to swim through and too safe to wade through. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made the water treacherous. They were halfway to Death when they found their path blocked by a glowing pink figure._

_And Life spoke to them. She was angry that Death was cheating her out of three valuable living people, for travelers usually lived in the river. But Life was cunning. She pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each would earn a prize if they got out to live._

_So the oldest brother, who was a peaceful man, asked for a wand less powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always lose duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had almost conquered Life! So Life crossed to a rubber tree on someone's yard, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother._

_Then the second brother, who was a selfless man, decided that he wanted to help Death, and asked for the power to kill all he wished. So life picked up a stone from that person's yard again and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to suck the life out of someone._

_And then Life asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the most arrogant of them and also the stupidest of the brothers, and he did not trust Life. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place and always be followed. And Life, most unwillingly, handed over her own garish Cloak of Glowing Magenta._

_Then Life stood aside and the three brothers climbed out of the river, continuing to unravel their long, lonely road, and they talked about their short adventure, admiring their new possessions._

_In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination._

_The first brother traveled for a second or more, and reaching a nearby village, sought out a friend who was as peaceful as he. He showed his Rubber wand to this friend, and together they marveled at its weakness._

_Meanwhile, the second brother traveled to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to kill the living, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, he felt his energy fading away, and soon joined his dead lover in the afterlife._

_The third brother continued to unravel the road, wearing the Magenta Cloak which once belonged to Life. As he had wished, he was followed by the stares of other people wherever he went._

_Eventually, however, an ancestor of Vernon Dursley saw this strange man and, unable to stand the oddity, killed him in his sleep._

_And so ended the Tale of Three Brothers._

* * *

**Tah-dah. This has been written after much laziness. Yay. We're sorry for that.**

**Anyway, Leefy wrote most of them, but I signed all of mine. So there. XD**

**Last chapter, in First-Year List: Type-os, the book list was a reflection of Harry's life. This time, which one-shot was the best, in your personal opinion? (It will be one of mine. *Evil laughter*)**

**-Kareha (Leafdapple3)**

**~Loopy Leefy (leefpool)**


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